


Lesson To Learn

by sharemymadness



Series: Ante Proditione [2]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Arguing, Before A Thief's End, Before the Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, Murder, Pre-Uncharted: A Thief's End, Treasure Hunting, working together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23110684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharemymadness/pseuds/sharemymadness
Summary: "'Nathan Drake is a legend!' You know, I shot the man who told me that..."Sam and Rafe find themselves in Brussels as they investigate a new lead in the form of an ex-treasure hunter. This is that story.
Relationships: Rafe Adler & Samuel Drake, Rafe Adler/Samuel Drake
Series: Ante Proditione [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648960
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Lesson To Learn

They were in Belgium, having discovered a potential lead pertaining to a retired treasure hunter who was willing to divulge information on his own personal findings of Libertalia. The old man had claimed to have been in pursuit of the treasure during his youth, but now was living out his final years in a nursing home just east of Brussels, surrounded by journals and years of findings. 

Sam sat on a cheap plastic chair outside of the man’s room and picked absently at his fingernails. Selfishly, he hoped that he wouldn’t end up like this. Just being in such an institution reminded him of prison, and of how he used to find solace in crawling away to dark corners with scraps of old parchment and smuggled books to clutch at any information associated with ancient history that he could. In the end, it was what had kept him sane. The old man behind the door that Rafe was currently conversing with was no different than that version of himself; still obsessed with the treasure, yet trapped within circumstances that hindered him from acting on this obsession. 

Sam knew how he must feel, only now he had the means to act, and selfishly, he smiled.

Much like prison, the care-home had a policy of one visitor per patient at a time. Sam had never had any visitors, of course, and the pretty lady on the front desk had said it was because the old man had a tendency to become overwhelmed, which Sam thought was bullshit. Being overwhelmed was part and parcel of the very business of treasure hunting. 

As they had signed their aliases on the care-home’s register Rafe had smiled kindly and softened his eyes and explained to her that he and Sam were past associates of the old man’s and of course, the woman didn’t think to question it. Rafe spoke in perfect German and for all Sam knew he was probably flirting with her, too. He wasn’t able to translate his words but he watched closely as Rafe leant over the counter and laughed with her, winked at her, brushed his fingers over her knuckles. Sam had become quickly agitated but had stood his ground and clenched his jaw, the hypocrisy of his frustration prevalent as it was a manipulation tactic that he himself had used on countless occasions. Besides, the knowledge that despite Rafe’s flirting there lay a red bruise on his neck sucked into his skin by Sam just hours prior was enough to stop him from acting drastically out of jealousy. He had already been claimed, and he knew it.

Needless to say Rafe’s eyes grew cold the very second that his back was turned to the woman and without a chance for negotiation Rafe was the one to go first into the old man’s room.

Sam strained his ears as he sat outside but wasn’t able to decipher much aside from muffled conversation, though he could picture the likely scene behind the door well enough: Rafe going about his usual negotiation antics and adopting his professional business-like persona that he was oh-so-good at. Oftentimes Sam forgot that that’s who Rafe was, usually when he’d have him begging beneath him or when they lay entangled together talking idly about everything and nothing. The face that Rafe Adler showed to the world was one that had been bred and fed and groomed by sickly business, and Sam often thought himself special for being allowed to bear witness to the diversities of his character.

The sound of a sudden gunshot pierced through the stagnant atmosphere and sent Sam vaulting out of his seat and thus, tumbling out of his thoughts. Not a second passed before the door flung open and Rafe bolted out of the room, fuelled by mania, his eyes wide, his teeth bared.

“Sam,” he urged, grabbing the other’s forearm. “We need to go—“

“What the hell—“

“Never mind! Come on.”

Rafe turned to run but not before Sam noticed a splatter of blood on his cheek. “Are you alright?” He called after Rafe as he ran behind him. He could already hear the frantic bustling of the staff, and any second now he could bet that an alarm would sound. 

“I’m fine,” Rafe called behind him hastily. “Car. Now.”

Once outside Rafe flew to the drivers side of their rental and flung open the door, barely waiting for Sam to be seated before he floored the accelerator. 

“Rafe, what the hell is going on?” Sam exclaimed through distraught breaths. Rafe was shaking with focussed adrenaline. He sped cleanly through the streets and kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead. 

“He’s dead.”

“He’s— what? You shot him?”

“Yes.”

“Rafe— why? He was our only lead!”

Rafe was growing frustrated and clenched his jaw at the obvious statement. “Yes, and now he’s dead. So let’s find a new one.”

Sam groaned and hit his fists against the dashboard in anger. “Why the hell would you do that? We searched for months to find someone who—“

“Shut up!” snapped Rafe. “The man is dead. Dwelling on the past will achieve nothing.” He brought his hand up to his face and glanced in the rear-view mirror to wipe haphazardly at the blood, smearing it across his cheekbone. Sam watched him with exasperation.

“Did you get anything out of him?”

Rafe scoffed harshly. “Only that he’s a fan of your brother.”

Sam gaped at Rafe, and moments of silence passed as realisation dawned. “Wait a minute,” Sam said. “You shot him because he’s a fan of my brother?”

“That wasn’t the only reason—“

“Jesus, Rafe! You know, sometimes you’re a real—“

“What?” interrupted Rafe. “Go on. I’m listening.” 

Sam scoffed and looked pointedly out of the window. “You’re an idiot, you know that? A hotheaded, jealous, fucking—“ Sam broke off and directed his anger at the car’s footwell, kicking it furiously. He looked at Rafe through narrowed eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. “And you’re a fool for killing our only lead over something so—“ Sam gestured violently in the air, “—over something so trivial. Jesus!”

“Whatever your anger,” Rafe said, his words edged and cold. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t take it out on my car.” 

Sam laughed cruelly and shook his head. “You know what? I should’ve seen this shit coming. I should have known something like this would happen after what happened with Vargas.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “We are not having this conversation now—“

“Oh, yes we are,” Sam muttered darkly. “Do you want to know the amount of shit I suffered for that? Thirteen years of my life Rafe. Thirteen years! That plus daily beatings and—“

“And I got you out.” 

“Yeah, after a decade of—“

“I thought you were dead!”

“You could’ve checked!”

“I did! We both did.” Rafe took a deep breath. “Listen, I know you have a lot of pent up anger about—“

“Damn right I do!”

“—But you’re out now and the fact is—“ Rafe waved his hand to silence Sam. “The fact is that I got you out. And without me you’d still be rotting away in that filth.” Rafe made a face as his lips formed the word, memories of his own time spent in the rat-infested jail flickering through his mind. He took a deep breath. “I think that evens out the score, don’t you?”

Sam crossed his arms against his chest and directed a hard stare at the window, sinking into his seat like a spoiled child. “Fine. Only now you’ve ruined it again. By killing the guy we spent months tracking down. So no, we’re not even.”

Rafe pressed his lips into a hard line and an uncomfortable silence passed between them. They were out of the city now, and Rafe’s speed had slowed considerably as they drove along rural roads back to the hotel. Escaping the possibility of a police chase had been Rafe’s only goal, which he seemed to have achieved. It didn’t matter to him if they were caught on security footage. He’d pay the company off until they mysteriously forgot about a lawsuit, or about the old man’s existence entirely.

Sam looked over the dashboard at the rolling hills and pretended to find some sort of distraction in them. He refused to be the first one to speak again, despite knowing that they may go days without exchanging another word. It had happened once before, after a similar argument, and it was only after they had traveled a couple of miles that he noticed Rafe’s hands tense against the steering wheel.

“Alright,” Rafe said at long last. His voice was quiet and strained though Sam welcomed it regardless. “Perhaps…” he sighed. “Perhaps that wasn’t my finest hour.” 

Sam looked at him, smug that he had not been the first of them to break yet still fuelled by a cocktail of both frustration and simmering adrenaline. “Yeah, you think?”

“I get it!” snapped Rafe. “And I’m trying to apologise. If only you’d let me speak.”

Sam jut out his chin but waited patiently, watching Rafe closely. 

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said as he looked at Sam, and Sam thought that he looked about as sincere as a man such as Rafe Adler could ever look, at least, which was something. He’d make sure to remember this moment. “I’m sorry for killing our lead. It was impulsive and…” Rafe physically braced himself before the next word, as if saying it would cause a physical blow to his chest, “... stupid. There.” 

“Wow,” taunted Sam mockingly. “I wish I could tape this. You just said the word sorry twice in one sentence.”

Rafe huffed. “What can I say?” He muttered quietly, looking back to the road. “You’ve changed me.”

A self-satisfied grin spread across Sam’s face before Rafe continued. 

“But I’ve learnt my lesson,” he said. “Next lead we find… I will restrain myself and only resort to drastic measures after we receive the information that we came for.”

Sam shook his head, his smile growing fond. “No,” he said. “I think you’ll find that next time, I do the negotiating.”

A smirk pulled at Rafe’s lips.

“Not a chance.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This basically spawned after I replayed the ending of UC4 and found myself wondering who tf Rafe shot, and how it all went down. 
> 
> I'm also working on some other ideas set after the Sam/Rafe betrayal which will also feature some other characters and pairings such as Nadine and Chloe, so keep a look out if you're at all interested! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @sadistichollows


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